Park the Kid
by Inudaughter Returns
Summary: We learn a little bit about the mysterious, kindly kid named Park. Meanwhile, Arnold struggles to learn the identity of P.S. 118's very own phantom of the choir.
1. Chapter 1

It all began on a placid afternoon at P.S. 118 Elementary School in the city of Hillwood. It was an ordinary school day, with an ordinary lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches made with mysterious cheese distributed on foam plastic plates which had fused together with the cheese in places.

Arnold and his best friend, Gerald, were both sipping milk from the carton. Helga was poking a bendy straw into her own milk and Phoebe, who was seated at the same table as all these others, had finished her lunch and was looking at a book that was in precarious danger of being splashed. The reason was Eugene. The red-headed boy, Eugene, joined them at their table to exchange words, but nudged over his own milk carton with his elbow by mistake with incredible precision. The end result was squeals and much mopping with napkins.

Yes, it was an ordinary, simple day. Over at a separate table, Park, one of the reputed nicest kids in town, shared space with other kids his age. Curly was there, as Peapod Kid and Brainy. While not particularly friends, there had been vacant space at the table and so they had all met to dine together. It was a clique of the moment. So, tipping his head with curiosity, Curly listened to Park the kid speak with a juvenile eloquence.

"So, our grade has choir rehearsal practice tomorrow!'" Park exclaimed. "It's too bad I might not able to make it. My parents are considering doing volunteer work out of town this week."

"Oh," Curly said, his head tipped sideways. It was impossible to see what thoughts lit his eyes behind those thick glasses of his. But he stroked his chin in deep thought. Other kids of the grade were reflecting on school concerts as well.

"Gawsh!" said Stinky Peterson tipping the remains of his lunch into a can. "A concert! Sounds like a dang good ex'cuse fer me to break out my dang fine suit! I always look snazzy in it!" Stinky Peterson said with much personal pride. He tipped his nose up into the air as he tucked his thumb in his collar Beside him still holding a lunch tray, Sid had to look up, way up, to see his friend's face.

"Yeah, I'm not into that stuff as much," said Sid stacking his empty lunch tray with others to be washed. "I don't know that I'm… you know… that much a singer. Not like Lila!"

"Yeah, Miss Lila!" Stinky said with perfect neutrality for the moment. "She sure is lucky gettin' a big solo fer herself!"

"Yeah!" Sid agreed before the two friends strode off toward the tetherball court to play ball.

The days turned. Class bells rang and children gathered. With much hissing and jabbing of elbows, everyone of Arnold's grade eventually made it up onto wooden platforms. They waited anxiously for their instructor to arrive. He threw open a set of doors at the far end of P.S, 118's auditorium and strolled toward the stage at a comfortable pace.

"Sorry about that, class!" Mr. Simmons chuckled. "Had to use the bathroom! Now," said the balding man. He picked up a conductor's rod from a metal music score display. "Are we all ready to begin? Let's take it from the top! And Lila. Do you remember your solo?"

"I'm ever so certain that I do!" Lila Sawyer said batting her eyes. Arnold and Helga were identically unimpressed since Arnold had completely gotten over his crush a long time ago. Gerald was bored because he had Phoebe. But as always, there were some around Lila who found Lila as charming and endearing as a bunny rabbit, and that included girls as well as boys. There were smiles to return each of Lila's smiles. Mr Simmons rapped his conductor's wand against the sheet music display to garner attention.

"All right, class!" the instructor said. "Let's begin! But...oh, first! Brainy? Since Park couldn't make it today, will you please take his place next to Rhonda? Thank you!"

"Wait!" a voice called out. A boy with a blue university sweatshirt with a large "U" on it and a bowl-cropped haircut swept through the door to join them. "I'm here!"

"Park?" Mr. Simmons said. Startled, the man peered down at his notes on the clipboard. "I thought your parents took you along with them out of town."

"They… er, changed their mind," the boy said with a weak grin. Mr. Simmons reread his notes.

"Well, that's okay I guess!" their instructor said. "So class? Let's all take it from the top! On the count of three! One… two.. Three!" the man said. The children sang as their instructor waved his wand.

"Great, great! Class, that was fantastic! Now, I want you all to be as ready and excited for this concert as I am! So for this concert I am asking you all to wear clean, white linen shirts! No iron burns!"

"Aww!" Harold complained as he shuffled away. "I hate getting dressed up all fancy!"

"I think this concert will be great!" Arnold remarked to his best friend Gerald as they left the class and made their way to the schoolbus. That had been their last school requirement of the day. "Only two more rehearsals!"

"Yeah? Too bad I'm not soloing!" Gerald bragged proudly. "I'd bring down the house!"

"Well, let's just be glad that the concert will be an easy grade," Arnold said sitting down so casually it was like tossing himself down onto the green plastic seat. He turned to peer outside of the bus window since it was one of his habits to watch the city glide by.

"Yeah!" Gerald agreed heartily. He removed a sheet of paper from inside his math book. "Say, were we supposed to do math problems eleven through sixteen, or fourteen through eighteen?"

"Nine through sixteen!" Arnold corrected his friend, pointing to the blank sheet of paper.

"Oh yeah! Right!" Gerald said. He scribbled the numbers down.

With time, the class reconvened again for their second to last, planned rehearsal. While they waited for the bell to ring and a teacher to appear, Wolfgang the Bully stomped through the auditorium. Perhaps he was cutting classes again. In any case, the rude bully proved his distastefulness by shoving his latest victim, Park, who was craning his head around looking lost, into a trash can.

"Hah-ha! Maggot," the bully said before vanishing just before their teacher appeared. Arnold stuck out his hand to grasp hold of the boy stuck in a trashcan.

"Here. I'll help you out!" Arnold smiled. His mercy and patient benevolence toward others showed in that grin. Park was silent as he straightened, then brushed himself off. Arnold took his silence for shock. "Don't worry about it!" he advised the boy in a cheerful manner. Park walked away.

"Park?" Helga humphed, slouched forward. "Who's Park anyway? He seldom plays sports with us!"

"Park is a really great kid!" Arnold explained to the skeptic blond. "Nicer than me maybe even. His parents are really nice, too. They're doctors. His mother is a pediatrician and his father is a podiatrist."

"So what's the difference?" Helga asked with folded brow. "Besides a few letters."

"One takes care of children and the other takes care of... Well, feet.

"Feet?!" Harold griped loud enough to be heard by everyone around. "Who'd want to take care of stinky feet?"

"They don't have to be that stinky, Harold!" Helga said with calm. "If you wash them!" Helga rolled her eyes to the heavens as she kept her arms crossed. But she was comfortable standing alongside Arnold listening to their mutual friend gripe. Just then, their talk was interrupted by sudden yelp. The sound of rope sliding suddenly against a reel preceded it.

"Ow!" Wolfgang whimpered. A small bag of sand used to control the curtains as a counterbalance had fallen onto his back. The bulky boy stood up, stretched and shook the heavy sand off himself. "Who did that?!"

"Oh my! I'm glad you're alright!" said Mr. Simmons. "I'm sure it was an accident! Let's have the nurse make sure you're alright!" Mr. Simmons said leading a befuddled Wolfgang away.

"Hm. An accident? Or was it?" Arnold said squinting at the scene. He studied the end of the rope.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was just some kind of freak occurrence," Gerald reassured himself before the auditorium lights went out. In the darkness, three girls squealed.


	2. Chapter 2

The lights of P.S. 118's auditorium flickered on again. Most people had frozen into place where they were. Even if he didn't have a crush on Lila anymore, Arnold was a gentleman. He rushed over to see why the twin pig-tailed girl and her knot of friends had all squealed. Lila held the open palm of her hand up, puzzling over it.

"Lila?" Arnold asked the upset girl. "What's wrong?"

"Well. it's ever so strange!" the girl explained to him. "I had just found a pair of glasses and was asking friends if they knew whose they were to return them when suddenly… the lights blacked out! And when they came back on, someone had already snatched them from my hand! It's so strange!" observed the girl.

"Yeah! That's right!" squeaked Gloria. "I felt someone knock into me in the dark!"

"Me, too!" another of Lila's friends agreed. Arnold whirled his head around the auditorium, searching. In the corner beside some half-painted scenery, Arnold found Park brushing some red paint off his trademark blue "U" sweatshirt, an unhappy frown on his face.

"Are you alright, Park?" Arnold asked his friend, a sorrowed expression on his gentle features. Park the kid nodded yes.

"Here! Let's get you cleaned up!" Arnold offered before leading his friend to the boy's bathroom. It wasn't long before he exited the boy's room to leave Park to himself.

"Dang! Who would pour paint on a nice kid like Park?" Stinky Peterson mumbled to the crowd of Arnold's friends. Even Rhonda was there.

"I don't know!" Rhonda Lloyd sniffed. "But it's weird!"

"Yeah!" thirded Sid. "It's weird! Spooky even! It's like.. We have our very own phantom of the opera!"

"Phantom of the choir, ya mean!" corrected Stinky, waving his extra-large nose around.

"Say, Arnold? What'we gonna do about it?"

"Well, we'll find out about it!" Arnold decided slowly. "We'll ask questions! See if anyone saw anything else! Do we know anyone who wears glasses and might pull mean pranks on other kids?" Arnold asked out loud, thoughtful. "Curly?" the boy said upon reflection.

"Nah!" Stinky Peterson complained, vocally. "Can't be him! Curly's out sick for the week! His parents turned in a doctor's note this morning! Sprained his ankle or somethin'!" Arnold thought a little bit more. A sudden inspiration hit him.

"Okay! Here's the plan!" Arnold declared with a confident grin. "We all meet up at Mighty Pete after school! We'll sit down and try to figure out this mystery, together!"

"You mean like, play detective?" Gerald asked his friend.

"Yup!" Arnold agreed, confidence never waning.

"Detective!" Helga mimicked Arnold words. Passionately, she swung her hands up over her head. "I'm outta here!" Helga bolted away. Arnold watched the girl's retreat with surprise.

"Well, I guess it's just us!" Arnold said. The slightest ghost of a frown accompanied this statement, as if on some level he was actually... disappointed at Helga's sudden departure. But he turned his attention to the case. He and his friends all walked over to Mighty Pete as a group- Stinky, Sid, Gerald, and Harold.

But Arnold hadn't needed to pout, not even for an instant. When the golden-haired boy had seated himself down at a desk, hands folded together, Helga burst through the tree house door wearing her hair up in a bun and a starchy office suit. She carried a travel mug in her hand.

"Helga? What are you doing?" Arnold asked with much dignity as Helga slid the travel mug across the desk. Instinctively, Arnold grasped hold of the mug to steady it as sat down on the opposite corner of his desk. Helga crossed her ankles, leant back on her arms to steady herself, then tilted her head enough to see Arnold.

"What does it look like? I'm the secretary!" Helga decided for herself with a crazy, delirious grin. "How 'bout it gumshoe? Is there anything else you need?"

"You brought me hot chocolate?" Arnold asked, popping open the mug to stare at its contents.

"Yup! With a shot of caramel sauce, just how you like it!" Helga beamed. Arnold took a calm sip, then otherwise ignored Helga and her theatrics with practiced indifference.

"Alright guys!" Arnold said from his desk. "We've got to figure out who's doing this! Any ideas?" His friends all looked back at Arnold, mute as they puzzled the mystery in their own minds.


	3. Chapter 3

"Nope. My head's as empty as hollow wood!" Stinky declared at length. He held his hands up high in defeat. "I ain't got nothin'!" the boy lamented.

"Well… we can take thumbprints of everyone!" Sid blurted out rapidly. "Like they do on television!"

"Why?" Stinky shrugged. "We ain't got somethin' to compare it to!"

"Okay, okay. Guys," Arnold said holding up a calming hand. It had the same effect as a stop sign. Everyone paused to gawk at it. "Let's take all this one step at a time! Stinky, Sid, and Harold… we'll go back and study the scene of the crime. Gerald will interview everybody who was present."

"I got ya buddy!" Gerald said doing the thumb-shake-thing. In Arnold's eyes, there was a contented calm. He had confidence his best friend would do every interview right.

"Okay! Tomorrow, we'll meet up at the stage during lunch to examine the scene of the crime. Then, later in the afternoon, we'll all take up posts during choir practice to keep a look-out for suspicious behavior!"

"What kind of posts?" Stinky Peterson asked as Arnold smiled with friendly confidence. "I'll explain," Arnold began, standing up on his toes to lean over the surface of the desk. His friends all lowered their heads to form a huddle.

The next day, they met at the stage as promised. Arnold didn't find much despite his snooping, although Helga scribbled everything he said on a notepad at a furious pace, for the sake of playing along. She was still dressed up as 'secretary', although the clothes she wore to school weren't as odd. The crisp hair bun remained and Helga had found some fake cat-eye glasses somewhere. There were chopsticks sticking out of her hairbun as hair pins.

"Hmm. Have you found anything suspicious, Harold?" Arnold asked the pudgy boy. Harold Berman got up off his knees.

"Nah! Just this licorice drop that someone dropped on the floor!" Harold said unwrapping the candy and popping it in his mouth.

"Harold! That's evidence!" Arnold objected.

"Oh. Sorry!" the boy belched. "What about you, Stinky? Did you guys find anything?"

"Not a moot!" the tall boy complained with a wave of his nose.

"Yeah! Nothing!" Sid chimed in. Arnold sighed.

"Well, I hope Gerald is having better luck than we are!" He could only imagine in his head what others might say. But elsewhere, in the school, Gerald was doing exactly as he had promised. He was grilling his fellow classmates at what they had seen, one at a time. His secretary and recorder was the very able Phoebe Heyerdahl. Lila was first on list of interviewees.

"I don't remember much about it!" Lila complained. She closed her eyes in thought. "I only remember being very puzzled because the glasses in my hand were there… then they weren't! Like I imagined them! I suppose I could have!" Lila said with a nervous laugh.

"And Park had paint all over his clothes!" Rhonda lamented when interviewed next. "The poor boy!"

"I remember the lights going off!" Sheena mumbled in her fragile voice. "I was standing by the lightswitch, but I didn't see anyone near!"

"Whoever dumped that sandbag on me," Wolfgang threatened. He made a fist. "They're going to get it!"

"Hm," Gerald said tapping a pleasant, pink, pencil eraser tip against his chin. "Whoever pulled all this off must be a clever criminal mastermind! I don't see how it might have been anyone who was standing around in the room with us!" Phoebe gasped.

"You mean he must have made himself invisible?!"

"Well… maybe not invisible but close!" Gerald said before sinking back into deep thought. "But who could it have been?! Someone from a different grade perhaps?" Gerald doodled on a page spread before him. He didn't look up when the door to the cafeteria pressed open next to him.

"How's it going, Gerald?" Arnold asked pulling up a chair for himself. Gerald shook his head.

"Not good, man! This case has me stumped! No one anywhere in this whole grade seems to have seen a thing! Just the paint and the glasses and the spilled sandbag! But we already saw all that stuff for ourselves."

"Hm," Arnold said thinking. "I guess that leaves us with one choice. We'll wait for him to strike again! At this afternoon's choir practice!"

"You're a bold kid," Gerald commented, slightly impressed by his friend's confidence. "A bold kid!"


	4. Chapter 4

After a long anticipation, the hour of choir practice came at last. Students shuffled into their places on the stage. But Rhonda Lloyd had left her place in the back row to stand where Lila had been.

"Alright. Rhonda? Are you ready for your solo?" Mr. Simmons asked the girl with grave seriousness. Rhonda puffed up her chest.

"Of course, Mr. Simmons!" the girl declared with pride. "I was born ready for this part!"

"What happened to Lila?" Arnold puzzled out loud. Rhonda swiveled her head in his direction.

"Someone put Nadine's entire cockroach collection in her lunchbox! A despicable prank, really! The poor girl fainted dead away! She's still in the nurse's office recovering from her, 'trauma'," Rhonda explained while making air quotes.

"And you're going to do Lila's part?" Arnold inquired politely, trying not to sound too much like he was cross-examining her.

"Of course!" Rhonda declared without shame. "I can sing the lead role much better myself! I really have an exemplary voice! Even Park agrees with me!" Rhonda declared, smugly. "I said so at lunch!"

"Hm," Arnold said. He scrunched his neck down on his already short neck. The wheels in his head were turning. He turned to the girl standing on the chorus platform next to him. "Nadine? Can I have a word with you?"

"I guess!" the girl with dreadlocks agreed. She and Arnold hopped down off the performance platform. They rapidly returned.

"Sid? Stinky? Harold? I think we've found our man!" Arnold declared with calm fury. He knotted his fists at either side of his hips.

"Where?" Stinky Peterson said shading his eyes and squinting off into the distance. "Cause I ain't seen him!"

"Me neither!" Sid agreed, hopping up and down. Arnold was about to embark on a long explanation. But he was interrupted when the lights to the stage flickered out again. Moments after they turned on again, someone wearing a long black cape and a mask swung down on a rope. He landed beside Rhonda and offered her a long-stemmed red rose. Mr. Simmons fainted.

"Sing my pretty nightingale, sing!" the very familiar voice cried. Rhonda coiled back from the rose.

"Curly?!" she gaped. "I thought you were out sick!"

"Everyone else did, too!" Arnold said as Curly pulled off his white theatre mask. "I don't know how he did it, but he managed to make the whole school think he couldn't be here. But the one who actually wasn't here… the one he fooled everyone into thinking was coming to school this week… was Park!"

"Park?!" Rhonda gasped. "That doesn't make sense! He was standing right next to me last chorus practice! We all saw him!"

"Or did we?" asked Arnold. "Or was the person we really saw Curly with Park's shirt and not wearing his glasses? That's why Lila found his glasses and why they had to disappear! Curly must have dropped them on the stage along with a piece of his favorite flavored candy- licorice!"

"But if Park was really Curly all long," Stinky reasoned. "Why the heck would he pour paint on himself?"

"It was an accident," Arnold speculated. "To get to and from the light switch without being seen, he must have had to walk behind the scenery mural that was being painted. He must have tripped on a bucket of open paint by accident."

"Gosh. You sure are a keen detective, Arnold," Stinky Peterson observed.

"You are something impressive, my brother!" Gerald said. The two did the thumb shake thing again.

"Okay, okay, I did it!" Curly explained. "But you aren't going to squeal on me to Wolfgang are you?"

"Nah!" Gerald spoke up for Arnold as the two best friends smiled. "We won't tell Wolfgang! He'd beat the stuffing out of you! Besides, the guy sort of had it coming."

"Thanks, governor," Curly said. He shook both Arnold's and Gerald's hands. But Arnold held his hand fast.

"You really should apologize to Lila, though," the boy commented with sad thought.

"Alright, alright! Since you insist!" Curly caved in. Rhonda glared at the boy angrily.

"UGH! I can't believe you've been standing next to me, breathing over my neck this whole time!" Rhonda declared. "Well, no matter! I'm moving over there!" Rhonda said stomping off to the furthest section possible from where she and Curly had been standing earlier.

"But Rhonda, my dear!" Curly protested with manic fervor. Helga watched the boy dash off in pursuit of his crush.

"Heh. Well, all's well that ends well!" Helga said putting her pencil and notebook away. "Case is closed, huh Arnoldo?"

"Yeah! For now it is!" Arnold declared. They filed back into their appointed spots for chorus. Mr. Simmons woke up while Gerald was conducting. Then concerned students got him back up onto his feet and in his role teaching.

All of the students filed out of the room. That was, all except one. A single student still lurked about in the shadows of the stage. The lights of the theatre flickered on and off.

"Mwahaahaha!" a maniac voice cackled with glee. Curly Thaddeus Gammelthorpe wasn't tired of mischief yet. The end.

 **(OK, so calling this tale Park the Kid was kind of a misnomer. But I hope it had you fooled for an instant.)**


End file.
